Desire
by FlyingNymphLady
Summary: Men driven by desire often lead themselves to ruin or power as Tiberius discovers. Infuriated by his savior's attempted rescue the young Crassus tries to set him straight.


A/N: I know this isn't a real thing in the series but I just feel like these two have this chemistry when they're in scenes together and it's just like, "And now kiss."

Disclaimer: I do not own Spartacus, only wish that I could to save myself a few uncontrollable tears.

Summary: Men driven by desire often lead themselves to ruin or power as Tiberius discovers. Infuriated by his savior's attempted rescue the young Crassus tries to set him straight.

_Desire by FLyingNymphLady_

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Another skirmish with the rebel troops, another few dozen Romans dead. The number of fallen was a dwindling concern for the son of Crassus, the current Will of the Supreme Commander. Tiberius had been proclaimed The Will of his father though he was sure he was failing his purpose in this war. He had been given direct orders not to engage the enemy yet his troops had been sent into battle with the slaves several times. Tiberius had left his first battlefield horrified by his disgrace in the encounter with Spartacus but he now knew he could not redeem himself in his father's eyes; only extent of the disgrace remained to be foreseen.

Yet, this was not what laid most heavily on the young boy's mind. The most troubling predicament to the young Roman rested in the bed beside him. Caesar, his unspoken rival, had claimed this bed in an unconscious state after saving his life. The memory infuriated the boy and made his hot-headed ego even worse than usual. The audacity of Caesar to deflect the blade meant for him, it really had his blood curdling. The man had no right to do such a thing; Tiberius had seen the slave coming at him. He would have swung his sword in time; he had no need for Caesar's assistance. Of course Caesar's shoulder wasn't the only casualty to come out of the battle. The boy commander had all but lost his reputation (if he had had one with his immaturity in the first place) with the troops. The men would still bow their heads in respect when he walked by but even Tiberius could tell it wasn't the same as before. Now these men bowed only to the title not to the Crassus before them.

_ 'It's all your fault,'_ Tiberius glowered at the blonde Roman. If it hadn't been for his interference Tiberius might have managed to win back the hearts of the men. All hope of that was shot now of course and he knew it. These men would never respect a commander who couldn't fight with them in battle nor draw up clever strategies. Though his position kept him from dethronement Tiberius knew had lost the following of his father's men.

He could always take his revenge now if he so wished, no one would be the wiser if he told them Caesar had passed away in his sleep. Tiberius toyed with the idea for a moment longer before casting it aside, if Caesar had risked his life to save that of his rivals that entitled him to something of a life debt. The notion was revolting but Tiberius forced himself to stomach it; Spartacus was becoming a playmate in comparison to this vile Roman. The only reason he was in this army was because his family was old and powerful and Tiberius knew it.

The soft grumbling from the scruffy man's chest startled the boy, causing him to jump. Tiberius waited a moment to see if the older soldier would finally rise from his slumber but nothing seemed to happen. '_Insolent cockroach'_, even in a state of unconsciousness he still burdened the brunette. Just as he prepared to take his leave Tiberius heard another grumble erupt, louder this time with the promise of a waking man.

"You awaken Caesar?" Tiberius inquired, slowing retreating from the tent's flap. The man nodded as he drew his arm across his eyes, shielding them from the candle light. His face creased against it, repelling the light which gave him the gift of sight.

"The gods have truly fucked me over this time," Caesar groaned loudly, bursting into a coughing fit, "Fetch me fucking drink boy."

Tiberius grimaced at the request, not a minute after he'd awoken and Caesar was already demanding things of him again like he was a lowly stable boy, "Should have let you die on the battlefield," He mumbled pouring wine from a pitcher.

"You would not have," Caesar replied taking the cup as he propped himself on his elbow, "You're bound by a life debt."

"One you forced upon me," Tiberius said bitterly, "I would have had that slave were it not for you and your ready sword."

Caesar shook his head as he laughed into his cup, infuriating Tiberius more so, "If that is honestly what you believe boy, than you are stupider than your father gives you credit for. That slave would have crushed your skull in."

"It would have been a welcome blow in comparison to what I now live with. My father is expected to arrive any day and when he does, he'll surely disembowel me." Tiberius spit out virulently. "Even my own men have disserted my leadership thanks to you; they find me too weak to lead."

"Surely because you are no doubt," Caesar said calmly, detached from Tiberius' petty troubles. While Crassus was likely to get upset with his son, beat him if need be, Caesar didn't see the man killing his own son over something like this.

Finishing his drink Caesar tossed his cup away from his bed, moving himself into a seated position. Tiberius glowered at him still, throwing every prayer he had into the sweet thought of Caesar's instantaneous combustion. Unfortunately his prayers were to go unanswered which left the Roman feeling a bit abandoned by even the gods but not entirely surprised.

"Always the wolf aren't you? Even now you pounce upon every opportunity to slaughter me from behind. Were it not for your slumber you'd have finished the kill, skulking about until my father arrived to seat you at _my_ command." Tiberius spat throwing his hands in the air.

"Believe me pet, if I had wanted your command I would have taken it." Caesar told him, "Your father and I are much alike, things that our hearts desire we acquire with our minds. You would do well to remember that."

"Why? So when I'm stabbed in the back it's because one of you desires it? I suppose I should count myself lucky knowing the reason for my death." Tiberius bit out.

Caesar stood, and though slowly due to his unused muscles, he still managed to loom into a formidable force in comparison to the smaller boy. Advancing upon his prey with the eyes of a wolf Caesar clutched Tiberius' neck within his grasp the way a carnivore does when toying with its prey. Nothing too tight as to disrupt the circulation but a grip strong enough to make the boy very unsettled, "Desire is the emotion that brings many men to their ruin as well don't forget boy. For example, your desire for glory blinds you to the possibility of defeat, leaving you open to attack. Were it not for me you'd be dead."

Tiberius, face flushed, felt unable to breath with a loose-cannon like Caesar hovering about his throat. Everyone knew the man wasn't exactly the most civilized of Romans; a rumor well proven by his first encounter with Crassus' guards in their senate housing.

Caesar leaned in; his breath slowly encroaching upon the boy's reddening lips. '_Oh how fear brings out the beauty in feeble creatures such as this…'_ he thought to himself though he forced himself to remain a menacing figure as to entice the boy's fear further.

Caesar let his hand slide from the boy's neck onto his check holding it almost gently. Caesar's mouth crept forward, scouring Tiberius' own like a Roman on his way to destroy a Ghaulic village. He was forceful, commanding his way around the boy's warm lips. It was so unlike the woman's yet Caesar had felt many such as this among his travels so he was adapted to the male form. Still there was something incredibly enticing about him, something that drew the boy right into Caesar's intrigued body.

Taking his fill off the kiss Caesar threw the boy toward the tent flap, an invitation to leave before he became a man. Tiberius stood there for a moment like a lost puppy that had just been beaten. He was unsure how to respond to the mixed signals flashing through his mind. On the one hand Tiberius's brain told him to flee from a man who'd just as soon save his life as he would forfeit it. On the other he wanted to return to the arms of Caesar and let him take even more of his fill.

"Leave me," Caesar said rolling his eyes. The young were always slow learners to the ways of love. Tiberius started, nearly jumping out of his skin as he scrambled for the door. Reaching for the tent flap Caesar's voice called to him again, "Tiberius, when your father arrives I shall lend voice to your form of punishment. Meet me here to thank me then."

- End –

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